The Lives of Otto Chenoweth

back to Casper, brought their prisoner to John B. Okie’s house at Lost Cabin, where Okie was hosting one of his popular dances, and Okie invited the unexpected guests to partake of the refreshments. The sheriff and his prisoner sat at the kitchen table, where they were joined by a couple of men from the dance, and the sheriff told them how he captured his prisoner, a man named Chenoweth, on Walter Punteney’s ranch in northeastern Fremont County. Chenoweth was thirsty, and the sheriff got him a drink from the butler’s pantry, but as the thirst became unquenchable, the sheriff was annoyed at the interruptions of his story and sent Chenoweth to get his own drink. Chenoweth did not return to the kitchen. Instead, one of the ladies in the drawing room recalled that a man “not dressed just right to attend the party,” excused himself as he moved among the dancers, on his way out the front door. Realizing his prisoner had vanished, the sheriff drew his pistol and burst into the drawing room, where the music stopped. The sheriff yelled, “We have got a cutthroat out there on our hands,” and the ladies screamed, ran away or swooned. The sheriff ordered the men to go after “the SOB,” adding, “the bloody bastard couldn’t have got far.” The men rushed out to join the search, while the women huddled in the room, some to listen to the sound of gunfire outside, while others leaned out the windows, where they could follow the progress of the manhunt from the sheriff’s continued curses and insults. Outside, one of the search parties stumbled over a pair of embarrassed lovers over by the lilac hedge, the prisoner ran through some glass-covered beds beside the house, the sheriff fired his weapon, and Deputy Manuel Armenta fired twice more. Finally, Chenoweth was discovered huddled in an irrigation ditch. He later claimed he had not intended to escape, but only went outdoors for a breath of air, and when the commotion started he hid, to avoid being shot by the angry sheriff. The sheriff brought Chenoweth back through the drawing room, where Chenoweth stopped, bowed to the ladies and apologized for delaying their festivities. He then apologized for the rude behavior and rough language of the sheriff—which occasioned yet another outburst from the lawman. After the lawmen left the room, the music struck up again, but the ladies didn’t stop talking about the horse thief, and they finally declared that he was more of a gentleman than “that sheriff.” In this fashion, Chenoweth earned his informal title as Gentleman Horse Thief.